


You Can Be The Chick

by thisdumbasshunter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hope you like, Kid Fic, Kids AU, M/M, YOLO, and bad writing, and maybe actually future sad, but happy end, but past sad, much fluff, mute!Dean, once again, some sad, sorry - Freeform, stutter!cas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-01
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-01-10 18:33:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1163093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisdumbasshunter/pseuds/thisdumbasshunter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Talking is easy. With the exception of two lonely little boys, who can't seem to do it right.</p>
<p>Dean has always been a complete chatterbox. A born and bread patient of foot in mouth disease. Until one day he just stops. And nobody can find out why...</p>
<p>Castiel had long stopped trying to make friends. Because who would wanna be friends with someone that got stuck repeating the first few syllables of their name?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introductions

**Author's Note:**

> DEANIE BO-BEANIE: 7 1/2  
> CASSIE COO: 8  
> SAMMY SOO: 4

The clattering sound of his mother making pancakes awoke Dean with a start. His eye's hastily shot a look around his empty room and he was doing his best to slow the rapid hammering of his heart in his chest.

 

_It's just a dream._ He thought to himself, a futile attempt to relax his twitching nerves. _A stupid, stupid dream._ He nodded sharply, rubbing his two sweaty palms down his flushed face, grimacing slightly as he felt dampness trickling from the corners of his eyes. He sighed shakily before swinging his feet down from his twisted bed and onto the rumpled light blue quilt he had managed to bush off during the night. Deciding it would be best on everybody if he got himself in the shower before he came down the easily slip-able wooden stairs and repulsed his family of their food with his sweaty smell, Dean headed out of his room to the empty bathroom for a shower. He hadn't bothered picking up his sheet from the floor, he would just ask his mom to wash it for him later. Dean loved doing the laundry with his mom. When everything was all in the machine, she would often allow Dean to sit on top of it and Dean would giggle in delight as he shook up and down with the aging contraption. Smiling in anticipation Dean hurried with his shower before pulling on some jeans and one of his dads old oversized Led Zepp t-shirts and heading down the stairs, through the Sammy safe living room and into the pristine kitchen.

 

His mother, Mary, smiled at her son as he hopped onto the stool hidden behind the breakfast counter and stared up at her smiling eagerly.

'Good morning Baby,' She said happily, chuckling as Dean grinned and waved in response, his eyes flickering to the pancakes she was dousing with a sticky golden syrup right in front of him.'You sleep well?' Dean paled slightly as he thought about his dream last night, he shuddered slightly before straightening and nodding with a small smile. Mary frowned slightly at her son's lack of verbal response. Dean had stopped talking completely a couple of days ago. The day the dreams started. Mary pulled her lips into a small responding smile as Dean dropped his gaze back onto the pile of gooey pancakes. 'Do you know anyone who might want some pancakes?' Mary questioned, her small smile breaking into a full out grin as she could practically see Dean beam in response. She pushed the plate forward across the surface and turned around to start some for Sammy as Dean wolfed down his own.

Dean's family was small but sweet. He had a loving mother, a hard shelled but equally loving father and a younger brother who was under the impression the sun shined out of Dean's ass. Despite his limited vocabulary, Sam was Dean's best friend. They did everything together and Dean would do anything to keep his baby bro safe. Thinking of his brother, Dean patted the table three times to grab his mom's attention, nodded happily a silent 'thank you for the meal', then stood and walked back up the stairs to his little brothers room, leaving his slightly saddened, slightly puzzled mother to continue with her pancakes.

When he reached his brothers room he grinned into the darkened space, his eyes greeting his brothers hilarious sleeping form. Sammy had his face pushed sideways into his pillow, his arms hung loosely against his body and his butt ached into the air. A large pool of drool had collected underneath his open mouth and Dean fought hard to stiffen his building chuckles. He edged gingerly towards the sleeping boy, squinting at the fluffy carpeted floor and cautious not to tread on any of his brothers toys. Upon reaching Sammy's bed, unscathed by any wayward Lego pieces, he gripped his hands onto the wooden bed frame supporting his brother and crouched down to his eye level. Slowly, he pushed his skinny arm out in front of him and poked his brother in his squidgy belly. Sammy squirmed slightly, his face screwing up in distaste before he shuffled his body forward into a tight ball. Dean smirked and repeated this action, Sammy opened a bleary eye, unsurprised by the boy's face in front of him and swatted his brothers hand away, turning his head to the side this time. Dean rolled his eye's before giving him another prod and leaving the room. Heading back towards his mother, he smiled brightly, pointing to the plate of pancakes then gesturing towards Sammy's room. Mary chuckled and took Dean's hand, leading them to Sammy's room and dropping it so she could reach into her youngest son's cot and pick the boy up. Sammy whined in protest before Mary soothed him with the promise of the waiting sugary covered food down bellow. The smile Sam flashed Dean would be one Dean never forgot. Not even years later.

Deans father, John, was a marine. He worked hard, dangerous shifts and was rarely home and when he was, imbibed so much alcohol it felt like he wasn't there at all. Mary told him to quit. Said a job wasn't worth losing yourself over. Said she'd leave him. He told her he couldn't. Said he needed to keep them all safe. Even if she left he wouldn't stop loving each and everyone of them the same. After this they would normally hug, cry a bit then sleep only to repeat it a few nights later. John was away right now. He didn't get pancakes and kisses in the morning. He got a can of cold beans and a pat on the shoulder by a comrade. Most of his day's were overpowered with guilt. You killed that man. Your breaking up your family. If you'd only paid attention in school, you wouldn't be killing people for money. You aren't worth Mary's tears. You aren't worthy Dean's beams of pride and love. You aren't worthy of Sammy's gleeful chuckle. So John drinks. He drinks to forget the death, forget the pain, forget his responsibilities. Forget everything. He was returning home today. Something that should fill him with selfish happiness but only left him with bitter shame. He would ignore the liquid release for as long as he could. For them. John was scared.

'You know whats happening today Dean? Sam?' Mary questioned as they all sat at the kitchen breakfast bar together, pancakes long shoveled away. Dean nodded, smiling a bright cheerful smile at his grinning mother then looking towards Sammy who with a puzzled look on his face, kicking his legs backwards and forwards under his stool. Dean's smile grew even more as he pointed to wards the picture of his mother and father's wedding day, trying to non-verbally explain what was going on, Sam just looked more confused. Mary smiled at his cute clueless face and pulled a little at Sammy's chubby cheek making him frown. 'Daddy's coming back tonight!' She said giggling as Sam shook his face out and bursting into a smile matching Dean's.

'Does this mean I can show him my reading?' Sam asked, bouncing happily in his chair, beaming with pride. He had just learnt how to write the alphabet out fully and hadn't shut up about it for days. Dean rolled his eyes, silently teasing his brother with a mental _nerd._

 

'Yah hah!' Mary replied, bopping his nose quickly. She closed her eyes whilst laughing at Sam's grumpy expression before resting her eyes on her silently beaming son. Her expression becoming softer as she addressed her oldest son. 'Deanie are you gonna say hi to your dad when he get's back?' she asked softly, cupping his face as she spoke. Dean's smile faltered slightly and his eye's became saddened. He shook his head, eyes piercing holes into the shiny linoleum floor. Mary stroked her thumb across Dean's cheekbone and nodded silently.

 

Later, whilst Dean was sat on the living room floor building a Lego set for himself and Sam to play with, Sam went to talk to his mother.

'Mommy? Why won't Dean talk to me? Is he mad? Did I do something wrong?' His bottom lip quivered as he spoke. Mary looked down at him from where she was standing, her hands elbow deep in dough. She wiped them off with a dish cloth that lay beside her on the surface. She ducked down to Sammy's height and gave him a small sad smile.

'I don't think so baby,' she replies, tucking a strand of Sammy's long hair behind his ear then resting her hand on his shoulder.'It's not because of you baby, Dean could never be mad at you, you know how much he loves you.' Sam smiled and wrapped his arms around his mom. 'Okay baby, you wanna help me make this pie for Dean? Help make him feel better?' Sammy nodded and Mary pulled him onto her hip and with unnecessary difficulty made one good looking cherry pie.

Dean walked down the street with his eyes fixed on the ground. His shoes scuffed against the grey pavement slabs as he dragged his feet across the floor and the cool morning air bit at his bare hands as he walked purposefully towards his local park. He couldn't stay there any longer. The way Sammy's face fell every time they tried to play together and Dean wouldn't talk. Eventually Sam had left the room, looking like he might cry and Dean felt like the worst person alive, So leaving a poorly written note on his now finished Lego house, Dean headed to the park. He kept walking down the never ending street, kicking an empty beer can in front of him as he walked. When he finally reached the rusting gate he head straight for the equally rusted empty swing set, plonking his butt down and rocking back and forth slowly as he thought over his vow of silence. Then forgetting it. There was no point in thinking about it. It just hurt. Leaving his brain, he took in the area surrounding him. It really was beautiful at this time of year, the sun was shining brightly in the blue sky and the breeze hitting the blooming daffodils that reached up to him through the cracked tarmac floor.

_We should go on a picnic tomorrow,_ Dean thought, smiling softly as he imagined his family all smiling and laughing, John lying on his side, body wrapped around Mary, whom was sat with Sammy in her lap as he repeated the alphabet for the fifth time in a row, only getting mixed up slightly as he neared the end. Dean was leaning on a soccer ball and smiling happily as he heard his dad's long lost laughter. He was abruptly snapped out of his thoughts as the sound of raised voices met his ears.

'H-hey th-that's mine!' a squeaky voice called out, followed by a matching yelp of pain.

'Get lost loser!' A second voice replied, laughter echoing around him. If there was one thing Dean hated more than broccoli, it was bullies. Standing up quickly, Dean walked quickly towards where the ruckus was coming from. A group of three boy's stood laughing, shadowing the body of a small boy in a muddy puddle. The one of the boy's seemed to catch sight of him as he headed towards them, fists clenched and shaking at his sides and teeth gritted in anger. The boy nudged his other friends and pointed towards Dean's approaching form.

'Have you seen that kid around before?' One asked, he was the smallest of the three with blond curly hair and brown eyes, his voice wobbling slightly as caught a glimpse of Deans glare. A skinny boy with brown hair replied with a quick shake of his head whilst the third, a chubby ginger boy with pale skin and way to many freckles stepped forward, meeting Dean with a smug smile on his face.

'Hi, you must be new here. Only new people don't know that this is where we play.' He grinned happily at Dean, his eye's edged with confidence and a slight hint of fear. Dean smiled in return, patting the guy on his shoulder before walking straight passed him and over to the boy on the floor.

'Hey! Didn't you just hear me?' The boy's voice was angrier now, shaking slightly as he tried to keep composure. Dean ignored him, crouching down to meet the eyes of the young boy sat in the puddle, his head was down and he was staring at the ground, trying to hide the slowly sleeping tears.

'Hey!' The voice was right behind him now and an arm latched onto his arm and roughly pulled Dean back up to his feet and spun him around. 'Are you deaf?' he barked, shoving Dean backwards with both hands.

Dean remained where he stood, but his calm demeanor had completely disappeared at the boy's attempt of violence. His face darkened instantly and before he could stop himself he found both hands gripped into the fabric at the front of the boy's t-shirt and the boy's shocked face almost nose to nose with his own. The boy whimpered in shock as Dean thought over his ' _this is why I'm gonna beat the snot out of you and if you ever tell anyone I'm gonna kill you_ ' speech, before he remembered his vow of silence. He growled slightly to himself before pushing the boy forward into the dirt and turning back towards the crying boy, who was now watching Dean also. The crying boy watched the leader of his two year long bullies, push himself hurriedly out of the mud and after his two fleeing accomplices, a new wet stain in between his legs. The boy stared up in disbelief and fear at his savior, shocked when he found his stare returned.

'H-Hello.' He stuttered after a long minuet of the pair examining one another. Instead of responding, Dean got back down into his previous position in front of the boy, lifting his hand up to his cheek and lifting his chin up in an inspection for damage, his face serious, concentrating on the boy in front of him. 'Uh...' The boy mumbled, eyeing Dean up warily, not daring to make a move. Suddenly aware of his expression, Dean shook his face out and gave the boy a warm smile before standing and holding his hand out to help the boy up. The boy swallowed and took his hand.

'Th-Thank you... I-I mean f-for now and f-for earlier. Uh... yeah...' Dean nodded, smiling happily, his eyes caught the sight of a muddied object on the floor and he bent down to pick it up, ignoring the mumbled panic coming from the boy. He patted down the object - a book that seemed far superior to his and the other boy's reading level - and handed it back to the boy, who thanked him again. _Damn, no wonder this kid gets picked on, that stutter is ridiculous..._ Dean thought raising his eyebrow and shaking his head. He patted the boy's arm slightly then turned and walked back to the empty swing set, patting the empty seat next to him as he sat down, an obvious invitation for company.

'R-really? I m-mean you don't mind?' The boy questioned shuffling towards where Dean was slowly rocking back and forth on his heels. Dean rolled his eyes and scoffed a silent yes. The boy's face split into a beaming smile as he scurried towards the empty swing. They sat together in silence for a minuet, the stuttering boy stealing glimpses of his new hero whilst Dean just smiled to himself.

'Y-you don't talk much do you- I- I mean- not that I mind - I talk enough f-for the both us a-and now I'm babbling wh- which isn't gr-great with this st-st-stutter... Yeah I'm st-stoping now...' The boy spoke excitedly doing exactly as he said, 'babbling'. Dean listened intently grinning slightly as the boy got more and more off topic, it was sort of adorable, watching this stranger get so flustered so easily. His face was bright red as he finished his last sentence, which had been continually growing quieter, keeping his eyes fixed on the cracked park floor instead of making eye contact. Dean smiled into the sky, gently rocking back and forth, watching as the clouds bustled together, making intricate patterns and shapes throughout the light blue morning sky. The boy glanced up from the ground, shooting a quick glance towards his mute hero, bright blue eyes traced slowly across Dean's intensely freckled skin.

'M-my mom says freckles are kisses fr-from angels... You m-must be very b-blessed...'. Dean flushed, averting his gaze from the sky and onto the boy, curiosity and a hint of shock splashed on his face. The boy smiled, his hand gripping tighter to the iron swing chains.

'W-what's y-your name?' He questioned, his head tilting to the side as he examined Dean's face. Dean pursed his lips and pulled himself from the swing ignoring the boy's calls from behind and walking over to an abandoned twig. Kneeling down he picked up the soggy wood before twisting his head to the left of him slightly, collecting the attention of his new acquaintance and beckoning him over. As the boy cautiously walked over to Dean's side, Dean carved a sloppy four letters into the soft brown dirt.

D E A N

'Dean?' The boy asked, reading over his shoulder.

'That's your name?' Dean nodded, a content smile lighting his face. The boy nodded slightly then reached his hand out for the stick in Dean's hand. Collecting the stick he copied Dean's previous actions and began to carve words into the ground.

C A S T I E L

Dean frowned as the boy moved away from his work. Glad he'd finally learnt how to spell it without mistakes. Grabbing the stick back he left a simple question mark underneath the name. 'Castiel.' He said quietly, gently tugging on his fingers as he waited for the name calling to start.

'That's my name.'

Dean stared, eyebrow raised slightly in surprise before he underlined the first three letters.

C A S.


	2. Back Story With A Side Order Of Tears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I knoooow its bad, this is sorta a filler/apology for making you wait so long. The next chapter, however shit it is will be up sooner, and possibly longer than this tiny one. Maybe. Possibly. You know what? No promises >.

Dean ran home with a huge smile on his face. With every slap of his trainer against the solid grey pavement the a new name exploded into his mind.

C A S T I E L

C  A  S  T  I  E  L

C   A   S   T   I   E   L

Dean's smile could light the entire street for a week with how bright it was beaming. As he turned into his neat suburban neighbourhood, he stopped and tilted his head as he enjoyed the subtle clatter of people waking up. He always liked Saturdays... It allowed him free roam of the street, No sane person would be up at seven am on a weekend! When he's was only slightly younger he would spend his Saturdays playing with Sammy and this little blonde girl, Jo, who lived next door.

The thought of the house next door pushed Dean's head down.

Looking at the house next door made Dean feel sad.

The day John joined the marines, was the day John met Bobby Singer. Bobby Singer was a kind yet gruff worded man with a wife by the name of Ellen. A name shared with the new neighbor that, at that very same time, was welcoming Mary to the neighborhood.

Upon meeting, the four became fast friends, whenever Mary was dealing with a low amount of sugar or even just in need of some 'girl talk', Ellen was there. Whenever John needed a poker buddy, or even just a link back to his home life in Kansas, Bobby was there. A year later, Dean was conceived and Ellen was the first to know. (This may have induced a minor upset with ol Johnny boy but, as the young ones say, yolo...) the birth of Dean brought them all, if possible, even closer together as Mary and John became parents and Ellen and Bobby became auntie and uncle. Their lives were mainly focused on baby's. This was a topic aided by the fact Ellen herself was, one year later also with child. Little baby Joanna. By the time Dean was four and Jo was three, the pair were thick as thieves, and with baby Sammy on the way excitement buzzed around both households. And for a few years, life was good.

But then came the accident. Joanna Beth Singer was born with a weak heart. There were often days, awful days, long boring and often really hot days, in which Jo would have to spend in bed resting. Dean hated these days. Jo always looked so weak and frail at these times and really she was just an embarrassment to the name 'navigator'. In fact, that was her third demotion. She could hardly handle the name 'first mate' if she kept missing her duties and the title 'rough pirate scallywag that could break you with the flick of her wrist' was given up after her failure to walk in a straight line, let alone break someone.

Anyhow, we're getting wayyy off topic.

It happened in the tail end of January, somewhere around Dean's sixth birthday. They were playing pirate in their front yards on a Saturday evening. A harsh wind pushed Jo's special pirating scarf off the ground from where Dean had tossed it, (Sammy and Jo were attempting a mutiny and had loosely tied his hands together with said scarf) and up into the sky, away from the safety of the Winchester garden, and into the street. Ellen had purchased that scarf especially for Jo to pillage in and Jo was very fond of it.

Her first little scarlet shoe was on the road as the car sped around the corner. She had just made it to the middle of the road, her hand reached towards the sky as she gripped tightly to her little silk scarf.

Then a bang.

And a scream.

And not soon later, a flat line.

They never caught the driver.

And the group fell apart.

Bobby and Ellen moved away.

And whilst John lost his little piece of home.

And Mary lost her 'girl talks'.

Bobby and Ellen had lost something much greater.

As Dean sorrowfully pushed open the front door, he was almost knocked down by the smell of fresh apple pie and a small yet surprisingly loud brunette. After a second of shock, Dean carefully pried his brother away from him and knelt so they matched eye level, instantly he was met with an unusual mixture of utter relief and misery. Snot and tears covered the scrunched up face of a young Samuel Winchester. Dean quickly opened his mouth to comfort but closed it just as hurriedly. His lack of words seemed throw the younger boy deeper into his pit of despair as he threw his head back and let out a howl loud enough to wake the entire state. 'D-D-Dean!' He wailed reaching forward and grasping his chubby hands into the front of Dean's shirt, Dean frowned at his brothers sodden face and reached his had out to tip Sam's chin down slightly to meet his eyes, mentally urging him to explain the situation.

This was unnecessary.

'Dean?' His mothers shaky voice called from the kitchen and Dean felt his heart drop at the sight of his mother stood in the doorway. Mary Winchester was one of the strongest women alive. Her family was revered in law enforcement circles, ever since her father, Samuel Campbell, had started a campaign to rid the local streets of the notorious criminal circle know most commonly as 'The Demons'. (A/N I know what your thinking. 'Wow, omg wtf that's like, the most original gang title like, ever!' But shut up. Just let the story progress. Thank you.) She had grown up in the police force. Her entire family was in someway connected to it. She had started combat training at the age of eight. But this is not the type of strength I was talking about. Mary was mentally strong. Like, shit, that bitch watched The Notebook, didn't shed a single fucking tear. Mary was metal. But after the death of Jo, she had never been the same. Her children were fragile. And she would do whatever the hell she could to keep them safe.

This is the reason Dean hasn't attended school since he was 6 years old, why Mary quit the force to home school and why Sam was his best and only friend.

Except now he wasn't.

Two slender arms wrapped themselves around Dean's middle, and he soon found himself lifted off the floor and clutched tightly to his mothers chest.

'Don't you ever do that again Dean Winchester!' Wrapping one arm under Dean's butt and using the other to stroke Dean's cheek she stared into Dean's forest green eyes whilst Sammy wrapped his arms tightly around his mothers leg and sniffled into the fabric. ' **Ever** , Dean. I was so worried.'

Dean smiled sheepishly and buried his face into his mothers chest. Whilst it was nice to make new friends, he liked it here much better. Warm and safe and home.

_I won't mom_ , Dean wanted to say, _I promise._

But Dean never could lie to his mother.

After two minuets of a silent group hug the family split apart to get on with different things. As punishment for missing for over an hour, Dean's job was to tidy the Sammy clutter out of the living room whilst Sammy added more work to his job and Mary called off the growing search party.

**Author's Note:**

> IM SO SORRY, I REALLY AM TRYING TO UPDATE BUT SOME SHITS BEEN HAPPENING AND ITS KIND OF INCREDIBALLY HARD TO GET INTO THE RIGHT MIND FRAME FOR THIS. THE SECOND CHAPTER IS ALL MOST FINISHED. I HOPE. SORRY, I SUCK I KNOW.
> 
> TuMbLr:  
> http://thisdumbasshunter.tumblr.com  
> WaTtPaD:  
> http://www.wattpad.com/user/DemonicFanBrat9


End file.
